Escapade » z.m

57. Professor Redon Invites Me For A Tea Party

And perhaps, this wasn't chosen either.

"Louis!" Zayn calls suddenly. Louis stops in his tracks, he turns around. He sees another wounded smile that Zayn is sporting. "I'll come in the evening, yeah?" He says, "Don't leave without saying goodbye."

Louis blinks, then smiles. "Never." He gives Zayn a wave.

Zayn smiles in return.

It falters the moment Louis is out of sight.

He sighs deeply then, and starts to walk the other way. The sound of his shoes and snow accompanies him. His hands are in his pockets, and he's walking quite leisurely. He's aware he needs to reach the staff room soon, but he can't bring himself to walk faster.

His father asked him once. He asked him what he wants to become. It was so abrupt, like his dad were so frustrated with him that he couldn't help but burst the question out. They were all sitting in the dining, having dinner. His mum, his dad and him. They rarely talked while eating, and when his dad asked the question suddenly, Zayn didn't get the time to brace himself. He hadn't got the time to think of a quick way out, escape the question without letting his father realise it.

He remembers it. Amidst the whirlwind of dazed memories, he remembers this clearly. He remembers the instant dread that washed over him. The way his entire body went stiff and his mind went blank. The ferocity in his father's gaze was unnerving. How could he tell he wanted to become a teacher, something so small in his father's eyes that he felt ashamed even voicing it.

He remembers the way he had remained silent. His father's gaze piercing his eyes and heart. He thought something would happen if he didn't answer in that moment, but his father let the topic rot in a corner after that. He returned to his meal, to his daily preachings of how being the son of the chief executive was such a gift for Zayn.

With Zayn almost failing all his classes in his college, he should be happy he already had a job in his hand.

As he walks down the quiet alley, Zayn wonders if he could have told him that very day, that he wanted to become a teacher.

What would have been the outcome? Would his father be easily convinced? How would this little bend in reality alter the future he's living now?

He pauses to look back. He wonders if Louis has really gone, or is only waiting to get to him again and prod him more. Ask more questions, demand more answers. He starts walking again. His steps are even slower now. They feel heavy.

The truth is, he'll never be able to answer Louis' questions.

If someone is to ask him to tell all that lead him here, everything that happened these past years, he'd never be able to answer. He'd never even be able to tell what made him run away that night. He'd never be able to tell what all happened through the night.

It's just pieces he remembers. Pieces of a puzzle that will never complete. Those pieces are sharp, their edges cut and he bleeds so heavily each time they cross his mind.

He remembers a pitched night, everyone in his house was sleeping except him. It was way past midnight, he is sure. It was late, everything was eerily silent.

He was crying. He was crying so hard that he was choking. He tried to muffle it, he tried to hush down the sobs that racked through him. Nothing helped, not the pillow in which he screamed, not the blanket that deepened the cracks at the side of his lips as he tried stuffing it to muffle his cries.

And yet, no one heard him.

He wonders now, how that came to be. Whether he was successful in silencing his screams or if everyone around him really was deaf.